Well, to be more accurate, the bitterness has been going on for some time. But this is a far more appropriate forum for it.
Because although The Bitter Homeschooler is a mad editor, The Mad Editor is not always a bitter homeschooler. Nor should she be.
The Bitter Homeschooler is often wildly inappropriate and off-topic. Or searingly on-topic. She says what’s on her mind, especially if she suspects that it may be what’s on other not-so-serene homeschooler’s minds as well. (Hence the Wish List.) Editors, mad or otherwise, should be at least slightly professional.
The Bitter Homeschooler loathes the Mad Editor for creating so much work on top of all the screaming BH has to do, and demanding a certain level of decorum on top of it. The Mad Editor wishes that BH would either get her *%$# together once and for all or just bloody well shut up, already.
Sadly, they can’t do without one another. They live on an island of insanity where two can survive, working together, but one alone would perish. The Mad Editor needs BH’s strength, wit, and refusal to take even the most dire situations too seriously. The BH would starve without the Mad Editor to keep the business pot boiling.
They can, as I said, only survive if they work together. But if they spend too much time huddled up a little too close, they’ll kill each other.
So this blog is a lovely way to give them the separate bedrooms they’ve been clamoring for.
The Mad Editor can breathe a sigh of relief, now that the scary BH (say it fast enough and that’s how it sounds in ME’s mind, though she’d never admit it out loud) won’t be screaming all over a site that’s supposed to be about magazine business. The Bitter Homeschooler can share all her darkest 99% cocoa content thoughts without fear of reprimand.
She can talk about her pelvic woes and her mean mean family. She can plug (or trash) books that aren’t quite appropriate for ME or SHM but are of legitimate interest to bitter homeschoolers.
But first, seeing as how it’s the last day of her favorite month, she has to dress up as a sexy angel of death, carry a black rose, and DARE those home-owning cheapskates not to give her candy.
And she might even let her son come along.